


"it's okay. i couldn't sleep anyway."

by someoneyoucantstand



Series: Harringrove’s 100 ways to say 'i love you' [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Canon compliant up to Season 2, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneyoucantstand/pseuds/someoneyoucantstand
Summary: Billy's week has been about as hellish as they come, and he wants nothing more than to sleep for a month.Regardless of how exhausted he is, Steve needing him is far more important than getting some shut eye.Alternatively; '100 ways to say i love you' - "it's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway."
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove’s 100 ways to say 'i love you' [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189166
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	"it's okay. i couldn't sleep anyway."

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of ‘100 ways to say i love you ‘ - prompt 16. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” by p0ck3tf0x on tumblr

Billy just about fell face first onto the bed, twisting at the last second to land on his side and to avoid suffocating himself with the pillows underneath him. He can honestly say he probably would have done, too, considering how bone tired he was; once he had dropped on that bed he would instantly lose all energy to pick himself back up, pillow suffocating him or not. 

It had been such a long week. Neil had gone pretty hard on him on Monday evening when he had accidently dropped a plate while washing them after dinner and now, four days on, he still felt the deep ache of bruising if he moved his torso the wrong way. It seemed like there on out, the week had gone completely down hill. He’d spent the last four days juggling copious amounts of homework on top of extra basketball practise before state finals on top of picking a few extra shifts up at work to cover for a few of the guys who had been knocked down by a spell of pretty strong flu going around the garage. In fact, now that Billy thought about it, his throat had started to feel a bit more scratchy than usual, and the ache that he had put down to Neil’s fury could be the tell tale signs of the flu seeping into his bones. 

Billy groaned and buried himself deeper into his blankets. Of course he was getting sick. That’s exactly the type of thing his bad luck would do to him after such an exhausting week. Nevertheless, he now had three days of complete peace. Neil was out of town on business, he didn’t have work until tuesday afternoon, and all of his homework was completed to satisfaction. Even Steve, as much as he hated to admit, would be out of the question until Monday morning. According to the extremely excitable rambling of Dustin when Billy had picked Max up from school, they were at the homestretch of their campaign and Steve had so graciously offered to house them for the weekend whilst the Wheelers were renovating their basement. As much as Billy loved spending time with Steve, especially on his super comfy sofa, Billy could not think of a worse fate than listening to the dweebs ramble about dungeons and dragons. 

So here he was in his cocoon of exhaustion, where he planned to remain for at least 48 hours, with his eyelids heavy like cement. He tucked his arms under his pillows and breathed a sigh of contentment as his eyes dropped of their own accord, unable to stay open for another second longer. 

The phone rang. 

Billy groaned. 

Billy ignored it. 

Four final rings were followed with silence as Billy let out a sigh of relief and let himself think about sleep once more. He hadn’t drank too much water today, so he could likely sleep for the next 12 hours without having to get up for a piss. 12 hours of uninterrupted peace and- 

The phone rang again. 

Billy swears, loudly, and lifts his pillows, burying his head under them; suffocation be damned, anything to drown out the endless shrill of the landline beside his bed. The air under the pillows was beginning to get a bit too hot, the fabric dampening from his breath against it, when the phone finally stopped ringing and he was able to unearth himself and roll over into a more comfortable position. 

He had just comfortably tucked the blanket under his feet the way he liked it when the phone rang for the third time. 

Third time the charm for whoever was on the other end of the line, it would seem, as Billy finally had enough and threw an arm to the side, blindly reaching for the receiver. If he kept his eyes closed he might be able to retain some of the sleep haze he was dropping into and it’ll be all that much easier to fall asleep when he gets rid of the persistent annoyance of whoever thinks they have a good enough reason to ring him after such a hellish week. He swears on his own life if this is his boss asking for even more of his time- 

“What?” He groaned down the phone, wishing this was already done and over with. 

“Hargrove,” a female voice responded.

“Robin?” He asked, rubbing his face and suppressing another groan. “Whatever reason you have for stopping me finally getting some shut eye at 11 at night is already not good enough, Buckley.”

“Did Steve make it home?” That was good enough. 

“What?” Billy shot up in bed. “He was at work.” 

“He left, quite abruptly when we were closing. Was shaking a little, he didn't seem right.” Robin, who normally sounded indifferent, bored even, to most things, had an uptake in tone, and Billy knew there was concern for Steve in the air. 

Swearing, Billy climbed out of bed, placing the receiver between his cheek and shoulder as he tugged on his jeans. 

“What’s happened?” He asked as he patted at his pockets in search of his keys. 

“Nothing.” A beat of silence. “Well - Tommy and Carol came in, right after school, talking about some pool party film, Steve didn’t take it well. Didn’t bother stopping him at closing - I can do it myself, and I was hoping you’d be at home waiting for him.”

Billy swore again for a third time and pulled the phone away just enough for him to pull his jacket on before he was back on the phone to Robin. “I’ve got it - I’m going to him,” he declared before slamming the phone down and climbing through his window, attempting to pull his boots on as he crossed the lawn to his car. 

It took 15 minutes before he was speeding down Steve’s street - should have taken 25 but the speed limit wasn’t exactly on Billy’s mind - and before Billy could think he was pulling up alongside Steve’s BMW that was parked askew in the driveway. 

Preempting where Steve’s head might be, Billy bypassed the door and instead headed for the backyard, shouldering the stiff lock that Steve swore he was going to get around to oiling eventually. The gate swung open, the hinges screeching as he passed through. 

Steve sat before him, video store uniform still present, with one leg pulled up to his chest and the other dipped into the pool, his feet lazily circling the crystal clear water. The aqua blue pool lights illuminated his face and, as Billy got closer, highlighted the tear marks and red nose Steve was sporting. 

Billy sighed and came to a stop at his side, dropping down on his right. His left was already occupied by the nailed bat he remembers from that night at the Byers over a year ago. 

“Robin called.” Billy stated. 

Steve said nothing, just stared ahead into the dark forest that lined his backyard. The forest that seemed to encase the town had spooked Billy when they had first arrived; it seemed far too dark, too ominous, like something was always lurking. That thought was only solidified when he learnt what had been among the trees. 

“Barb died here almost two years ago, now,” Steve finally said into the silence and Billy sucked in a breath. 

“Tommy and Carol know that?” Billy asked, watching Steve’s foot make small waves, the image of it warped by the pool water. 

“They know what everyone else knows - that she was last seen here,” Steve nodded, switching his motions so that his foot circled anti-clockwise instead. Billy nodded. Of course, they didn’t know the full story, Billy didn’t even know the full story until only a few months ago when Steve finally explained all the strange happenings and the root of his nightmares, finally explained to Billy what was in that fridge that night and why he keeps a bat in his trunk at all times. 

“So the film they were talking about?” Billy asked. 

Steve let out a watery laugh and released his grip on his leg, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. Billy reached out and gently gripped his thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb as Steve heaved in a breath. 

“Doesn’t exist,” Steve confirmed. “They know it’s coming up and that I feel bad, probably wanted to rub some salt in the wound subtly I guess.”

Billy nods but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, really. He didn’t know Steve back then. He’s only even known Steve like this, and wasn’t even in town when they went through the first round of the unexplained. He does know, however, that Tommy and Carol would do anything for a cheap laugh - he even joined in on it in the beginning, probably even made Steve do this exact thing on the first anniversary of her death without even knowing what was being said. 

Next to him, Steve suddenly let out a choked sob and Billy didn’t hesitate to pull Steve into his chest, gripping his arms as he pushed him closer. Steve buried his face into Billy’s chest the same way Billy had buried into his pillows not an hour before, and yet the sleep he was losing was the last thing on his mind when Steve was crying into his chest. 

“It’s my fault - it’s always been my fault.” He cried. “I made Nancy come upstairs with me, Barb wouldn’t have been alone if I hadn’t been so desperate to get Nancy in my bed.” 

“Carol and Tommy are dicks,” Billy told him, “they’re going to say whatever they can to get a rise.” 

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t my fault,” Steve sniffed, his face wetting Billy’s denim jacket, creating a darkened patch on the breast pocket. 

“It was out for blood that night, you said it yourself. It would have taken someone regardless of what you did.” Billy rubbed at his arm. It was chill out, the November breeze getting at him through a jacket, so he can’t imagine how it felt on Steve’s bare arms. 

“But it wouldn’t have been Barb - it wouldn’t have been Nancy’s best friend.” Billy can’t respond to that. Because Steve’s right - it wouldn’t have been Barb and Steve probably could have avoided being dragged into all of this; he would probably be able to sleep a full night again if he hadn’t have pulled Nancy up to his room that night. 

In the silence, Billy could hear Steve’s small hiccuped cries and felt his heart tighten. He didn’t want Steve to cry, never. It was the worst sound in the world, Billy decided. 

Knowing he couldn’t say anything, Billy chose to bundle Steve and lift him into his arms as he stood, swaying slightly under the new weight but not faltering. He’d carried Steve to bed on multiple occasions, granted for slightly more fun activities, but he could do it time and time again. Ignoring Steve’s foot dripping water down his trouser leg, Billy slipped through the porch door and through the Harrington’s house, already feeling the warmth now that he was out of the breeze. 

Comfortable on the couch, Steve sagged into Billy’s chest as the tears subsided but the defeat set in. Billy knew that feeling, had felt it himself after one too many beatings. But to see Steve feel it, that wasn’t right. 

“I think about it all the time,” Steve started, “we all do - it’s hard to forget. I don’t know why it’s hitting me right now. All they did was make a shitty little comment.” 

“It was more than that and you know it.” Billy commented, placing a hand on the back of Steve’s head to slowly run his fingers through his soft hair. 

“Sometimes it just hits me more than that isn’t a nightmare - it happened. We faced down against the Demagorgan - twice - and we won, but some people didn’t make it.” Steve let out a breath before tilting his head to look up at Billy. “I just keep thinking about how, if it can happen twice, who’s to say it can’t happen again? The lab says they have it all under control, that it’s gone, but they said that once before - people lie.”

“I can’t say it won’t happen again,” Billy looked down into Steve’s eyes, seeing that they were still shiny with tears. He reached up and gently wiped his thumb to wipe them away. “But, I do know that if it happens again, I’ll be right by your side, to help you face them down a third time.” 

Steve smiled softly, the kind of smile that was warm and made his chest tighten a little at the sight, before burying back into Billy’s chest. 

“I’m sorry Robin called you, I know you’ve had a rough week,” he mumbled. Billy felt his fingers lightly graze across his t-shirt and he knew Steve was probably thinking about the black and blue skin underneath.

“It’s okay.” Two hours ago, any interruption would not have been okay, but Steve had needed him and he would never for even a moment think that catching up on sleep is anywhere near as important as Steve. 

“You looked so tired yesterday,” Steve commented, “you should be sleeping. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with me and my dramatics.”

“It’s okay,” Billy repeated. He dropped his head to place a small kiss on top of Steve’s head, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, before burying himself into the couch, pulling Steve fully on top of him to hold close, “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”


End file.
